Arkham Interrupted
by eternallost
Summary: The Joker's experience of the dull asylum is interrupted by a doc named Harleen
1. Chapter 1

Another day in Arkham. The Joker tossed his hair out of his eyes as he lay on the cot provided by the asylum. He would have used his hands, but as of now they were strapped in tightly in his straight jacket. Of course he could get out of it if he wanted to, but he quite enjoyed the persona it amplified, as well as the anxious looks of passer-bys. 'Boy that one's a loon! Better stay away from him!' He bet they'd remark to themselves. A chuckle escaped his lips. He could see it on their faces. He liked the trepidation. It was a form of respect in his world. Quite liked his solitude as well. He looked out of his cell with half-lidded eyes, following the movements of the boring employees living their boring lifestyles in their boring lab coats and standard issue glasses. It was like a herd of sheep or something. He wondered why the Bat couldn't see that these people practically asked to be slaughtered. Suddenly, something caught the Joker's eye. Much different from the rest of the graying flock was a head full of brilliant blonde hair. Eyes still half-lidded, he leaned slightly forward on his cot wondering what look of uneasiness would pass over her blue eyes as she caught sight of Gotham's most wanted.

A smile crept on his face in anticipation. She glanced his way and their eyes locked. What was this he saw? Her look was rather unusual; it caused something animalistic to stir in his stomach. No fear in those clear blue eyes, only something akin to the look on his face when he pulled one over on the Batman. Was it… accomplishment? Perhaps he would stall breaking out of the joint while this prospect held his interest. What was she anyway, a visiting student from Gotham U? Her heels clicked as she walked in the direction of his cell. Stopping in front of the glass, she pulled down the hem of her tight skirt and straightened her glasses. "Mr. Joker, I'll be your psychiatrist today, Dr. Harleen Quinzel. The Joker's smile grew wide, "AHAHAHA OH oh HO HO HA HA" He burst into laughter; this was too much. Who would pull this one on him, Ozzie? Someone was stealing his shtick! His laughter stopped abruptly as he approached the glass, "Who sent you doll face? Hm?" He questioned with a smile. She gulped as she took in the pale flesh that encased his lithe body, the pronounced nose and chin, the defined face and upper body. That green hair, the shade of well-watered grass, and the way his red lips framed his smile. She wondered what chemicals created these wonderful hues. The Joker caught her gawking and smirked. He quite liked the admiration, he knew he was well deserving. She snapped out of her daze and coughed, "Mr. Joker, I'm serious." Intrigue filled the Joker's mind as he leaned in closer, "Well Doctor Harleen, Why. So. Serious?"


	2. Chapter 2

Harleen stood in her small office adjoined to her mentor, Dr. Joan Leland. Standing was all she could do after facing the green haired icon that was slowly enveloping her brain. "Calm down Harl, youre a professional." She coaxed herself. She shook her head to try and clear her mind but it made the blonde even more dizzy. There was a knock on the door and she turned startled. "Time for your session," Dr. Leland said slowly. "Are you sure you're ready for this?" There was a stern and motherly look on her face. This made Harley smile, since actions of maternal concern had been far and few between in her life. "You bet." She stated, feeling confidence build in her chest.

The Joker hated the puerile imbecile's attempts to restrain him in a straight jacket. They knew well he could escape. But, he'd decided to go along with it today; a theatrical flair for his knew psych. Maybe she'd wet her pants in fear. He began a chuckle which turned into a cackle and before he knew it, they were face to face in the arranged meeting room. The blonde was tapping her pencil anxiously on the yellowed sheets of paper on her lap. An expression of eureka came on her face when she was about to ask the first question. The Joker interrupted, "what was my childhood like?" A bereft frown appeared on the doctor's face. Bingo, "they always ask that one first." His smiled broadened. "Oh but why talk about me when I have this lovely dish of a doctor before me. I want to know about you." His flattery caused her eyes to widen in confusion and a small blush to form on her cheeks. "Excuse me?" She squeaked, then controlled her voice, "these sessions are meant for your benefit, not my own." The Joker observed her actions and form. Could anyone be so transparent? He was beginning to feel a sense of letdown as per usual with the majority of his human interactions. He didn't consider Batsy a human. His mind began to wander to the subject of the man with a stupid mask with pointy ears. Really, he looked more like a devil than a bat, what a dope. Harleen noticed the subject's eyes narrow as he stared distantly. She recognized the angry expression she had worn before herself. "Someone hurt you." She stated. The Joker returned his gaze to her now resolute eyes and laughed loudly. "HA HA He HE HE, scratches on the surface, I have nothing deeper to penetrate, my pumpkin pie." He showed his pearly whites. Harleen swallowed as a patch of deep green fell out of place. She watched the Joker tried to blow the hair out of his eyes in vain. He stalled and looked at her pleadingly, "Could you-"

She stood up, "Oh- oh, sure."

She responded quickly and scurried over to brush the hair away. As she did so, she felt the cool of his forehead. Much like its color, it felt like snow. 'Eager to please.' The Joker noted. When the doctor sat down again she was biting her lip, "Was I, supposed to do that?" She asked. The Joker stifled a laugh and smiled charismatically, "You're supposed to do whatever you like, right?" She couldn't bear his heavy gaze and looked away, "Is that why you don't obey laws?" The Joker dropped the smile, "Laws, shmaws. If the Bat doesn't get punished, why should I?"

"Valid point." She remarked.

The Joker could see little gears beginning to turn in her brain. It was like a storage bin, you could put whatever you wanted in there. 'Aw, what the hey.' He thought, 'I never played with dolls as a kid, but the idea seems much more appealing know.' She was much like a doll, skin smooth porcelain and Barbie blonde hair. Her figure wasn't lacking, yet it looked like it was trained for something. Her form mirrored the determination that could be seen lingering in her cerulean eyes. Normally dolls would say "Mama" when you pulled their strings. Something inside of him wanted this one to say, "…Daddy."


	3. Chapter 3

Harleen's heals clicked on the city's sidewalk as the dim streetlights flickered above her. It was late at night, and she felt drained. She could feel there was something she just wasn't getting and she could see it reflected in the Joker's eyes. She could her him tsk in disappointment. If she could only solve the puzzle could she reach him? At first she wanted to make it big by writing a tell-all story. But now, was it the praise of Gotham she sought – or was it his? She took in a sharp breath as she saw a shadow move in the alley way. "You should be careful." A gruff voice warned.

"Oh yea? Says who?" She responded, her hand griping the mace in her right coat pocket.

"A friend." The voice replied.

"Haven't got any in this city." Her voice sank. The stranger stayed silent. She began to wonder whether the long hours were playing tricks on her.

"I'll be watching, doctor Quinzel." The voice faded into the alley. She knew he was gone; it was like he was never there. A black bat had crossed her path and she bet it meant bad luck. Flustered, Harleen continued on her trip home to a shabby apartment.

"He thinks he's the law in this town, what a croc." She scoffed. Then she stopped to look around, never knew where he was lurking. She crept up the steps, opened the door and flopped onto her creaky bed. Someday she'd break away. Her eyelids fell and the sun soon came back around.

The Joker leaned against his cell wall whistling, tossing cards into a hat. Something put him into a good mood, though he couldn't quite put a finger on it. He wasn't a morning person per say. Whenever someone was watching, he had to be on. Suddenly, a pale female waltzed in front of his cell. Boy was she carrying some luggage beneath her eyes, "Doc?"

"Oh, Wha?" Harleen's eyes widened as she realized where she was. "Mister Joker, I- was just coming to see how your morning was going." She tried to pass it off with an anxious laugh and big smile. He liked to see someone in this dump smile. People were always gloom and doom, that's what made him nuts, or more nuts. He smiled back and pressed up against the glass. "Much better with your presence." He replied smoothly. She felt the blood rush to her cheeks. Something that was also lacking at his current residence, when was the last time he saw someone blush? He tilted his head in interest. "I- uh- have to get back to my office." She replied hurriedly as she left. He could hear the other inmates whistle as she walked away. Oafs.

Harleen closed the office door, her heart pounding rapidly; she could feel the blood pulsing in her throat. She was normally in command with guys, they were at her feet. Now, she was utterly lost. "I am a professional." She assured herself as she breathed, "He is in here for a reason." She calmed down. She needed some sleep. She even considered asking Crane where he stashed his goods. That's all this was, lack of sleep…


	4. Chapter 4

Today the Joker sat awaiting his first session with doctor Quinzel without a straight jacket. She said it would put them on more of an equal footing, or perhaps he put that thought in her head. Though he still had to wear the shackles which cuffed him to the sofa. Harley entered and closed the door without looking at her patient. She had her head buried in her notes. He was betting on her tripping over her heals, but she made it to her seat safely. She was scribbling when she looked over the top of her yellow paper at her client. She knew his was handsome, but good God, where had that broad chest been hiding? That perfect torso, those toned arms, she could practically feel them through his prison uniform. Her face flushed, she tried to regain composure. "So, we were talking about your past?" She attempted to query calmly. But it was too late; he was quick to notice. He decided to tease her by stretching a bit. Restraint was hard for Harleen and the child inside of her kept squealing what it wanted. She needed that squeaky voice to shut up, now. She chided herself.

"I'll give you something if you give me something." He stated. Her jaw fell. "Information, Doc." He said looking away. He laughed internally, trying to keep up a cool front. She felt like he was disappointed in her. She hated that feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"If the trade is plausible." She tried to use professional speech. He smiled widely.

"Come sit by me." He patted the seat. Her eyes widened and she could swear that anyone in that room would hear her heart beating. "I don't bite." He added. Harleen bit her lip. She got up. Placing one foot in front of the other, she considered it an accomplishment for making it to the sofa. She turned and sat slowly. She was so close she could feel his body heat. "You know doc, I've never heard your full name." He turned to her, "What is it?" She felt paralyzed, those eyes held so much power.

"Harleen Quinzel. Why?" She replied.

He laughed with abandon. She couldn't help but chuckle even though she didn't get the joke. "Rework it a bit, and you get Harley Quinn! Like the jester!" She smiled at the suggestion.

"Gee, I never thought of it like that before." She laughed but instantly lost her breath when she was face to face with the Joker. This guy- was something else. Something no one else on the planet was. She felt-privileged. This oddity caused her to get up and shuffle back to the safety of her chair.

"Can I call you Harley?" He questioned sweetly. Her eyes closed at the softness of his voice, what wonderful tones he had. In a trance she replied, "Sure thing." That squeaky childhood voice had made its way to the surface. She instantly clasped a hand over her mouth. "No! I mean- no." She started, "Just call me doc or whatever." She grabbed her papers and headed towards the door.

"Sure thing, Harl." She heard his voice echo down the asylum hallway.


	5. Chapter 5

Her dreams were filled with the dark rimmed eyes and gaslow grin that seemed to be burned into her subconscious. When she came back to work at the asylum, it was hard to tell if she was still dreaming or not. Reality was becoming a blur, and the Joker's assurance that there was no "reality" was like a push towards the edge of a steep cliff. It was time for another session, but where was her patient? Nights ago he had escaped leaving the doctor with a feeling akin to post-partum. A single rose was left on her desk, with a J carved into the stem. She sat slumped in her office chair pushing her pen back and forth over her notes. Suddenly, she heard a commotion downstairs. Laughter echoed throughout the building, stifled by a swift punch to the jaw. Harleen's ears perked up and her heart was in her throat as she rushed to the noise, pushing her way through the crowd at Arkham's entrance. A large man dressed in a bat outfit was dragging the Joker's bloody body through the corridor. Though clearly damaged, the Joker's body shook with silent laughter. The bat stopped at her feet and dropped his prey. "I believe this is yours." He stated gruffly, turning to leave. Harley sank to her knees and clutched the Joker's body protectively. Anger swelled inside of her chest and her eyes narrowed at the dark figure.

"What have you done to my patient?" She shouted defensively. Batman stalled and slightly turned his head, then decidedly kept walking. "You- Bastard! You belong here! You know that?" Her voice cracked as the door closed behind the vigilante. The Joker looked through a swollen eye at the face of his psychiatrist. He could sense the fire he knew he kindled inside of her, and applauded himself for that. Tears of anger streamed from her blue eyes. A lock of blonde hair had fallen from her tightly knotted bun onto her face. She had forgotten to wear her phony glasses today. "Doc- you're a- mess." He wheezed with a smile. She looked down at his face, smudged clown makeup mixed with crimson and a purple lump swelling by his black painted eye. He was the one who looked like chaos, and he was. She chuckled. He brushed away a tear from her eyes. "Look at me." He said sternly. She obeyed. "I don't want to see any waterworks. Ever." She nodded slowly as she unwillingly gave her patient up to the medical squad.

The morning paper arrived at her office the next day. Harleen read aloud, "Good triumphs over evil, yaddah, yaddah, Batman." She stopped and stared at the black type. She reread the statement. How could they make out her misunderstood patient to be the villain, and a man prancing around in a black cape to be the hero? She threw the paper in the trash and decided to visit the Joker in the medical wing. His makeup had been washed off which highlighted the damage the bat left behind. His eyes were closed and he appeared to be sleeping. She sat in a chair next to his bed side, cautiously reaching out to hold his hand. She withdrew hers when she saw his eyes were open again. "Why, Harley, I'm touched." He smiled through the swelling. "You've come to see me. And you're missing your glasses again." He remarked. She touched her face where the frames should have been. Without those, people looked at her like a piece of meat- no one ever took her seriously as she was... She began to feel a sense of panic when his warm hand grasped hers. "Everybody has a mask." He stated. She swallowed as they locked eyes. He continued, "I'm glad to see what's behind yours." He let go of her hand and trailed a finger across his scars and lips. "Too bad I can never take mine off." He smiled.


	6. Chapter 6

While the Joker was in the recovery wing, Harleen had some time off from sessions. Not wanting to sit behind her desk all day, she decided to patrol the halls. Arkham was a big place and she'd only come into close contact with one of its inhabitants. As she walked past the cells she could hear murmurs of hatred towards one Batman. 'So others have dealt with this psycho.' She thought to herself. She stalled in front of a cell when the color of green tinted skin caught her eye. It contrasted with the flowing red hair that capped the inmate's head. It reminded Harleen of the rose that the Joker had left. Her body leaned up against the glass door, arms crossed. "Can I help you?" She asked in an alluring voice.

Harleen scratched the back of her head, "Uh, nope, no m'am. Just walking around." She replied.

"Name's Ivy." She shifted her hips and stance. "You don't look like the other doctors around here. They've needed some female representation for a while. Are you new?"

"They brought me in to help Mr. Joker." Harleen replied.

"Ooh." Ivy responded. "Him." Her full lips formed a smile. "It's seems the clown has taken a liking to you."

Harleen blushed. "W-why would you say that?"

"You're not dead." Ivy noted. "Or horribly maimed."

Harleen gulped. "I guess I am lucky."

"Your name?" Ivy questioned.

"Harleen, but you can call me Harley, everybody does." She wasn't quite sure where that came from.

"Well Harley, you've got a certain scent about you. Did you know? It's like a flower in bloom." Ivy stated as she paced. "You're in love, aren't you?"

"I- I wouldn't know." Harley responded honestly. A burley prison guard was on the approach to the blonde doctor.

"We've got a problem in sector 5." She could hear the man remark over his walky-talky. A big hand was placed on her shoulder, "C'mon doctor, we need your assistance." He spun Harley away from her conversation. She could tell Ivy was miffed at the testosterone.

"Harley," She turned towards the inmate, "do tell your suitor to leave those innocent roses in their respective beds." With a wink, the red head blew her a kiss goodbye.


	7. Chapter 7

Harley shook the thick miasma of intrigue from her mind that Miss Ivy exuded. It was like walking through a cloud of perfume at the mall, yet the combination of fumes was alluring and inviting rather than suffocating. With the introduction of these thoughts and being relatively new to the asylum, she struggled to recall places. "Sector 5-" She said with a look on her face as if she were shoveling through a filing cabinet.

"The recuperation ward of the hospital." A voice answered her from an adjacent doorway. She looked up to see a shadowed face with a smug look.

"John?" She startled, "You work here too?"

He shook his head in annoyance, "I've been here longer than you have. And it's _Dr._ Crane now."

"Right." She looked at him for a long time, unsure why she felt uncomfortable with the idea that he was _working_ at an asylum. They had been classmates at Gotham University, although he was ahead of her in years and ranking. He had quite the obsession with morbid topics of study. She felt that he had the same question about her qualifications for the position.

"Don't get lost like you did at our alma mater." He scoffed.

Her eyes narrowed. "If you'll excuse me, I have a patient to deal with."

With that, she turned her head and took a determined stride after the guard ahead of her. Her main priority was in the recuperation ward.

Harley could see a collection of guards at the recuperation ward's doorway awaiting her arrival. She nodded in affirmation and they nodded back. She could see the fear apparent in the younger one's eyes. As they walked in together, the first thing she saw was the Joker with a knife pressed against the pale skin of a nurse's cheek. It felt odd that in the pit of her stomach the initial emotion she felt was akin to jealousy. She took a deep breath through her nose and the Joker could sense that it was her. His eyes locked with Harley's and a smile crept up on his face. Her eyebrows went from furrowed to concerned as she could see the dilation of his pupils. As she examined his face, she could tell that they had him on a heavy concoction of drugs- the dosage and prescription of which she had not recommended. Even if he were insane, they _had_ to know that forcing him to swallow a sea of horse pills wouldn't improve the situation. On someone like the Joker, it wouldn't force them into a submissive, languid state. No, it would only fuel the chaos that resided inside of the shell of his body that often resembled a human male. This was the beginning of her recognition of how much of a man that he remained. Was he ever? Or was he truly some tangible form of the chaos that gripped Gotham, born out of the hysteria of its citizens?

With a flash of his teeth, he pulled back on the knife and the tearing of skin mixed with screams of agony echoed off the clean white walls of the infirmary. Vivid crimson blood mingled with lucid tears, forming a river or fluids streaming from the nurse's body. Again, Harley felt something tugging at her heart, which she couldn't grasp. She swallowed and found her voice, "Who has been medicating this man?" She shouted. The guards and staff turned to her as if they were horrified with her concern for the patient she was treating. She didn't need to justify her actions; she wasn't the one here to protect the nurse! That was the guards' job- at which they were failing. So, turn to them with your disgust! She repeated with more conviction, "I said, who has been medicating this man?" With wide eyes, they shook their heads in uncertainty, glancing around the room.

Though his vision was blurred the Joker could catch the stubborn look on Harley's face and the fists clenched at her sides in obstinacy. She was the only one without a petrified look on her face. This seemed more interesting than the feel of the warm fluids seeping out of the pawn before him. So he let go on a whim. As he did so, the guards rushed over to tackle him. With a swift impact, he felt the air rush out of his lungs. Trying to laugh in this state was the most fun. Harls had left him breathless, hah! On the other hand, the heap of guards left the Joker unconscious.


End file.
